


Pursed Lips

by Nefertiti_22002



Category: Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell (TV), Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell - Susanna Clarke
Genre: Anal Sex, First Time, M/M, Oral Sex, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-08-25 15:11:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16663180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nefertiti_22002/pseuds/Nefertiti_22002
Summary: Gilbert Norrell is secretly enamored of his pupil and terribly distracted by Jonathan Strange's habit of pursing his lips when concentrating on magic.





	Pursed Lips

**Author's Note:**

> Written in response to a prompt on the kinkmeme: "I've read a fair amount of fic about Norrell being shy and inhibited when it comes to sex, and I love it all, but what I'd love to see now is a Norrell who has been so hopelessly in love with Jonathan for so long, that the minute he gets him in the bedroom (or whatever setting you fancy), all his pent-up longing bubbles right over and he's all over Jonathan like a rash. Gimme all the frantic, handsy sex with Norrell desperate to touch as much as humanly possible at any one time, and Strange, naturally, loving it.
> 
> Bonus points if this leads to top!Norrell!"
> 
> I'm not sure I made Gilbert quite frantic enough to suit, but although making him the top went against my head-canon, I did manage to make him do the buggering this time.

Mr Norrell was deliriously ecstatic when Mr Strange agreed to take lessons in magic from him. The younger man’s inexplicable and unexpected display of magic during his second visit had plunged Mr Norrell into a kind of delight he had never experienced before. The exchange of Jeremy’s Tott’s little monograph, _English Magic_ , for its mirror image had been a thrilling revelation that there was a second genuine practical magician in England. Beyond the magic, however, there was Mr Strange himself, who could talk to him with an understanding and fascination that no one had ever displayed toward him before. Moreover, he was handsome and strong and charming and everything that Mr Norrell prized in an attractive man.

Once their lessons began, Mr Norrell cherished each second that they were together and only wished that Mr Strange were not married and could move into his house so that they could be perpetually together, apart from when they were asleep (and possibly not even then if everything could only be as Mr Norrell longed for it to be).

In short, Mr Norrell loved Mr Strange with every fibre of his being. During their lessons, he stifled his persistent fantasies about what he and Mr Strange might do together beyond reading and discussing magic. He wished he could fling his arms around Mr Strange and have his pupil do the same to him. He longed to kiss Mr Strange’s lips and touch his body intimately. Moreover, he wished Mr Strange would touch his body intimately, though he doubted that Mr Strange had much, if any, experience in sharing pleasure with a man, what with being married. Still, his own extensive experience with sharing such intimacies with Childermass would render him capable of giving Mr Strange pleasure and teaching him how to reciprocate—if only his pupil had not made that regrettable mistake of marrying. 

But Mr Strange had, and so instead of doing any of the things Mr Norrell longed to do, he simply sat at his desk while Mr Strange read; he also sat opposite his pupil at a table as they discussed the text and he lectured on the subject at hand. It moved him greatly that he finally could talk to someone about magic without that someone becoming bored and changing the subject. Mr Strange seemed fascinated by his lectures, and even if he could not yet discuss magic on a very sophisticated level, after only a few days it had become apparent that he was enormously talented—absorbing information like a sponge—and eventually might come to equal Mr Norrell in his knowledge and skills. 

No doubt it would take years until Mr Strange reached such a level of expertise. Mr Norrell was delighted at the prospect of their lessons stretching on for that length of time, and at the end of it, perhaps they could become partners and spend the rest of their lives together—on a professional basis, that is. On account of that d_____ marriage. (Not that he blamed the poor girl. After all, who could resist Mr Strange if he proposed a permanent romantic alliance? But Mr Strange, as an aficionado of the magical arts, surely should have known better.) Mr Norrell could settle for amorous frustration if only he could keep Mr Strange as a friend for life, as seemed very likely to be possible.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++

After only a few weeks, however, Mr Norrell noticed something odd and very distracting. It transpired that Mr Strange had a habit of pursing his lips as he concentrated on his reading or his note-taking. Sometimes the pursing was only slight, but if Mr Strange became quite fascinated by a topic, it grew more noticeable. Looking at Mr Strange at such moments, Mr Norrell could not help but be reminded of his desire to kiss his friend. He also could not help but wish that Mr Strange’s lips would purse invitingly when he looked at his tutor, but he had to admit that this was unlikely. The man’s pursed lips were generally accompanied by a frown as he studied the text before him—taken overall, an expression that was anything but romantic. Still, Mr Norrell’s mind could not help but wander in directions that were not conducive to the proper degree of concentration on the book he himself was supposed to be studying. All too often his reaction to those enticing lips was one that made him grateful that the surface of his desk blocked Mr Strange’s view of the front of his breeches.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Months passed in this state of frustration for Mr Norrell, since Mr Strange continued to express his curiosity and attention to the magical texts his tutor has assigned him with the habitual labial tightening that had so drawn Mr Norrell’s attention.

During one lesson, Mr Norrell realized that he should show Mr Strange a particularly enlightening book that related to the subject at hand. He mentioned this to his pupil and went to the shelf where he believed the book resided. It seemed not to be there. As he scanned the shelves nearby, uttering little tsks of frustration and puzzlement, Mr Strange looked up.

“May I assist you in some way, sir?”

Mr Norrell sighed. “Possibly. I was sure that Goubert’s _Gatekeeper of Apollo_ would be in this section of the shelving, but I do not see it, nor do I see a gap where it should be. I have not consulted it in quite some time, so it is not likely to be lying on a desk devoted to one of my current projects.”

“Perhaps it was simply mis-shelved, sir.” Ignoring Mr Norrell’s muttered denials that any such thing was possible, Mr Strange rose and joined him at the shelves. He was tempted to ask whether Mr Norrell might possibly have hidden _Gatekeeper of Apollo_ away in order to prevent his pupil from reading it and then forgotten he had done so, but he suppressed his natural curiosity on that possibility and concentrated on their search. After all, it was far more likely that Mr Norrell had simply mis-shelved the book and was loath to admit it.

Mr Norrell definitely believed that any such irresponsible action as mis-shelving a book in _his_ library was impossible. On the other hand, he soon realized that having Mr Strange stand so close to him in trying to lend his assistance in the search allowed him to feel the heat from the man’s body and smell his faint, appealingly manly odour in ways that were so arousing that he could not bring himself to move away or otherwise deprive himself of those pleasures. Despite the maddening fact that Mr Strange was a married man and thus impossibly out of reach for even the most tentative of romantic overtures, Mr Norrell did not believe that he could be blamed for merely standing near him—so long as he concealed his reaction from his pupil, that is. Hence the two men remained unaccustomedly close together as they earnestly surveyed the rows of titles and moved slowly along the ranks of shelves. At least, they both appeared to be earnestly surveying those titles, but Mr Norrell was falling into a delightfully abstracted enjoyment of his relatively intimate proximity to the irresistibly attractive Mr Strange. He failed to realize that such an abstracted state might lure him into inadvertently revealing how very attractive he found his friend.

Mr Strange, in contrast, was in a quite different state of enjoyment, since he seldom had permission to read the titles of so many books in Mr Norrell’s fabulous library in such a short time. True, few books of magic bore titles that made the nature of their contents at all clear, but nevertheless those titles were suggestive of fascinating, unexpected topics that he might someday have the pleasure of exploring. He hoped to memorize some of the titles so that he might enquire about them during his usually fruitless visits to bookshops. In his concentration, his lips became most distinctly pursed. 

“Oh!” he suddenly cried, leaning forward to squint at a title, pursing his lips once more in his concentration. 

Mr Norrell turned to find Mr Strange chest almost touching his shoulder. He looked up into the other man’s face and saw that his lips were puckered and extending forward, as if for osculation. Mr Norrell uttered a faint whimper before pulling himself together and, breathing more heavily, turning back to the shelves. 

Mr Strange straightened up and stared at his tutor. He had not failed to notice the man’s gaze directed at his mouth and the faint whimper and the subsequent slight confusion and the heavy breathing and the mere pretense of examining the books when instead Mr Norrell was staring into space and blushing furiously. 

Soon Mr Norrell realized that he should respond to Mr Strange’s startled exclamation. He stepped slightly away from his pupil and forced a smile. “Oh, have you found it, Mr Strange?”

“Unfortunately, no. I saw the name Goubert and was hopeful that our quest was at an end. But it is only _The Life of Nicholas Goubert_ , Lord Portishead’s biography.”

“And an admirable biography it is, Mr Strange!” Mr Norrell replied in an unusually hearty voice. “I believe you would enjoy and benefit from reading it. Pray, pull it off the shelf and take it home with you this evening. In the meantime, we have finished our survey of the library and have not discovered Mr Goubert’s own volume. We shall have to trust that it will turn up in due time. I must remember to tell Childermass to keep an eye open for it.”

He moved a few steps toward the large central table where the pair ordinarily worked and stopped when he noticed that Mr Strange had plucked out _The Life of Nicholas Goubert_ but was not following him or even simply pausing to examine, as he usually did, the new volume he had been given permission to borrow. Instead he was staring calculatingly at his tutor.

Mr Norrell looked at him quizzically.

Mr Strange hesitated. “Sir, just now I had the impression that you … um, had something you wanted to say to me … or even,” he added with a slightly knowing look, “possibly do to me. Am I wrong?”

“Do to you? I don’t know what you could possibly think … No, no! My sole wish was to find the book that I recommend that you read.” He looked away abruptly and affected to scan a nearby set of shelves with an earnest look on his face.

“Sir,” Mr Strange said in a quiet voice tinged with amusement, “I believe that you and I have already thoroughly examined that particular shelf and all the ones around it, to no effect.”

Mr Norrell took one step backward and gave the rank a flustered examination. “Oh, to be sure, we have.” He cleared his throat. “Well, shall we return to our work, even without the benefit of … uh, Goubert’s _Gatekeeper of Apollo_?”

“If you truly wish to do so, sir. Nevertheless, your behavior suggests to me … and I hope you will forgive me for mentioning it if I prove wrong … it suggests that you had an impulse to … kiss me.”

Mr Norrell froze. His breathing, which had recovered somewhat, became heavy again, and he opened his mouth two or three times without saying anything.

Mr Strange smiled at him. “You need not prevaricate with me, sir. Because I should say, if you did wish to kiss me, I would not blame you for doing so.”

Mr Norrell’s eyes widened in surprise. “Uh, do you mean that if I wished to do such a thing you would not blame me or that if I actually did such a thing you would not? After all, you must be accustomed to such impulses in people you meet. One cannot always control one’s idle thoughts, and you are a very attractive man,” he added with an apologetic shrug.

“I meant, sir, well … either one. I should blame you neither for the thought nor the deed.”

Mr Norrell now looked more confused than surprised, or guilty. “Oh, but, I should not do such a thing to a married man. You surely would object to my leading you to break your conjugal vows, even by such a slight infraction as a kiss.”

Mr Strange again smiled and thought for a moment. “I am delighted that you have such an idealized notion of marriage, Mr Norrell, and that you would respect the limits it places upon a husband. I am sure you are aware, however, that not all such vows are entirely honoured, and if I decide to act upon an impulse to let you kiss me, then the result is not your fault in the slightest.”

“Really?” 

“Yes, really.”

“Oh, Mr Strange!” Mr Norrell exclaimed, crossing the few steps between them in a remarkably short time. He threw his arms around Mr Strange and stretched up to press his lips against the other’s man’s mouth. The kiss began gently, since Mr Norrell was not sure that he had permission for more than a single, friendly kiss, and he did not intend to overreach the limits of Mr Strange’s views of his wedding vows—even though the temptation was great, he realized as he felt that warm, delectable mouth against his own.

Mr Strange welcomed so gentle a kiss, for he was not at all sure whether he wished to encourage Mr Norrell to proceed to greater intimacies. Mr Strange had been responsible for the deflowering of a small number of people, all female, and he had found that the process, though enjoyable to a degree, had made him anxious enough that he did not wish to undertake it in Mr Norrell’s case. He was a man, after all, and one who had reached what Mr Strange estimated to be his upper forties. If he had no experience of full intimacy, the whole process was likely to present difficulties. Mr Strange had had no such experience himself, and he had no real notion as to how to go about it. Thus he responded simply by returning the kiss with a corresponding gentleness.

Rather to his surprise, Mr Norrell’s kiss, unambitious though it was, did not seem to indicate a complete lack of experience. Indeed, it was quite delightful. To test the matter further, Mr Strange delicately flicked at Mr Norrell’s lips with his tongue a few times. Abruptly he felt it drawn into the older man’s mouth. Mr Norrell sucked and licked at it eagerly and then switched tactics, thrusting his tongue into Mr Strange’s mouth. Mr Strange opened to him, and soon their wide-open mouths were pressed passionately together as Mr Norrell’s explored Mr Strange’s thoroughly. 

At last the kiss ended, with both participants flushed and panting. 

“That was very pleasant,” Mr Strange said breathily.

Mr Norrell smiled uncertainly. “Oh, yes, it was, wasn’t it, Mr Strange?” He wondered if that kiss, lengthy though it was, had been all that Mr Strange intended to let him do. After all, a kiss was quite innocent and mild in comparison with what he longed to do with Mr Strange.

His doubts were put at rest when Mr Strange hugged him close and initiated a second kiss that soon grew even deeper and livelier than the first one. Without further worrying about his scruples, Mr Norrell immediately began to pull at Mr Strange’s cravat, but he never had been good at untying knots. Mr Strange in turn removed Mr Norrell’s wig and tossed it onto a nearby chair before assisting in the undoing of his own neckcloth. 

Once the neckcloth had followed the wig, Mr Norrell pulled back only briefly to stare in wonder at the newly revealed flesh before fastening his mouth on Mr Strange’s neck and proceeding to suck and lick it. His hands went up into the curls that he had so long admired, combing gently through them as his mouth drifted wetly along Mr Strange’s jaw and reached his ear. His tongue swirled lasciviously around its whorls.

Mr Strange gasped out a delighted little, “Ah!” Hearing this, Mr Norrell threw all caution to the winds. He removed his tongue and hands from his pupil’s ear and hair, respectively, and brought the hands down to pluck urgently but somewhat ineffectually at the man’s shirt buttons. Mr Strange chuckled and assisted him. Together they managed to open the shirt entirely, with its tails pulled out from the breeches into which they had had previously been neatly tucked.

Mr Strange pulled the shirt wide open with a flourish, and to Mr Norrell, it was as if a curtain had been parted to reveal a vista full of earthly delights. After his eyes moved avidly over the muscular stomach and chest, his hands did the same, seemingly exploring every inch before settling on gently pinching and twisting the perfect pinkish-brown nipples that so delightfully adorned Mr Strange’s torso. These particularly fascinated him, and he moved forward to suck and lick one while he continued to tease the other with his fingers. His other hand slipped inside the loose shirt and slid to Mr Strange’s broad, smooth back.

Mr Strange hummed softly with pleasure. One of his hands cupped the back of Mr Norrell’s head while the other slid down to the other man’s back to squeeze his buttocks. 

They continued these highly pleasing activities for some time until eventually Mr Strange said breathily, “Gilbert, that feels marvelous!”

Mr Norrell straightened up and gazed at him in surprise. Before he could remark at this familiar use of his first name, Mr Strange pulled him into another deep and hungry kiss. When this finally ended, Mr Norrell exclaimed, “Oh, Mr Strange!” Both were panting heavily.

Mr Strange chuckled again. “Gilbert, you can hardly keep addressing me so formally. Call me Jonathan.”

“Oh, I couldn’t—”

“Gilbert, just look at where your hand is and tell me you couldn’t!”

Mr Norrell realized that somehow, while his mind was fogged by the kiss, one hand had wandered from his pupil’s back to a point where it was kneading the front of Mr Strange’s breeches, slowly exploring the swollen length within. He removed his hand hurriedly, but Mr Strange grabbed it and pressed it once more against his rampant member, all humour abandoned as he stared passionately into his tutor’s eyes.

Mr Norrell stared back, fascinated, as he resumed his manual inspection of Mr Strange’s erection. It was most impressive, and he yearned to see and feel it outside the impediment of its garment.

He gasped out, “Oh … yes, well, I suppose … we have reached a level of intimacy where I, I would be justified in using your Christian name … Jon- …Jonathan.”

Reluctantly Mr Strange let go of him and stepped slightly back from him. “Good! Well, I for one have reached the level of intimacy where I think we need to go somewhere that will afford greater privacy. We cannot stop now—except briefly, of course. Would it be possible to retire to your bedroom?”

A huge smile spread across Mr Norrell’s face. “Yes! Yes, of course. The maids should have finished their work there by now … and I could put up a muffling spell and …” He straightened his own clothes, watching as Mr Strange refastened a few of his shirt-buttons and pulled his jacket on to cover the disarrangement of his upper garments.

The pair walked swiftly along the corridor from the library to Mr Norrell’s bedroom. After locking the door, Mr Norrell murmured a spell to make their activities inaudible to any one who happened to pass in the hallway, though there was no sign that any of the servants were on that floor of the house.

He turned toward the bed and discovered that Mr Strange was hurriedly divesting himself of all his clothing. He had removed his jacket and breeches and was now dispensing of his stockings and smallclothes. Mr Norrell stared as Mr Strange finished and stood up to face his tutor. He grinned and leaned back against the bed. His erection, Mr Norrell noted, had diminished considerably but was still quite impressive.

He moved forward and ran his hands down Mr Strange’s arms and torso before kneeling before him and admiring the cock as he delicately stroked it. His fingers played along the prominent veins and cupped and rolled the large testicle sac gently. Finally he leaned further and began to slowly lick and his way from the tip down to the curly nest of hair and back again. As it quickly revived, he repeatedly licked it up and down, finally returning to the top to suck the crown as he continued to caress the shaft.

Mr Strange gazed at him, humming with pleasure and occasionally moaning. As before, Mr Norrell showed every sign of having done this before, and he seemed to be enjoying the process. Mr Strange stroked his hair fondly and watched as Mr Norrell continued to pleasure him.

“That feels marvelous!” he said. “Arabella does this for me occasionally. Not that she particularly enjoys it—but it’s only fair, since I do it for her.”

Mr Norrell sat back upon his heels in surprise and stared up at him with a puzzled little frown. “You can do this for a woman? I should not think it was possible.”

Mr Strange grinned. “Well, it’s not exactly the same thing, but it involves one’s mouth and leads to a similarly pleasurable conclusion.”

Mr Norrell still looked a little confused but not at all curious. “I see,” he said faintly. As Mr Strange seemed about to continue, he continued hurriedly, “Oh, do not bother to explain! No need for me to know the details.”

Mr Strange suppressed a grin and nodded. “No, I suppose not. At any rate, I am enjoying this very much!”

Mr Norrell resumed his eager attentions to Mr Strange’s member until at last Mr Strange felt his fulfillment teasing at him. He stood up straighter and gently extricated himself from Mr Norrell’s eager mouth and hands.

“That’s marvelous, Gilbert, but as I said, I do get that sort of treatment occasionally. Not as often as I would like, but still, it isn’t novel to me. But I’ve never … well, I was wondering if we might fuck instead. Now that we have become so intimate with each other, I am keen to learn what that is like.”

Mr Norrell stared at him briefly in surprise before recovering. “Yes! Um, yes, if that is what you would prefer.”

“I don’t really know much about how it is done, so would you be willing to fuck me?”

“Oh, Mr Strange … that is, Jonathan! I usually prefer to be the one on the bottom—being fucked, that is. But I have done it the other way … a few times only, but enough to be sufficiently familiar with it. And of course, I have had it done to me, many times, so I know what it feels like and what is necessary to avoid causing pain. I assure you, I would be most careful and not hurt you.”

“Thank you, Gilbert! Well, you must guide me, but first, let’s get you out of your clothes.”

Mr Norrell had remained clothed during all this, but between the two, they soon had him as naked as was Mr Strange. The covers and top-sheet were pulled aside, and Mr Norrell produced a fine salve and soft cloths, explaining their purposes as he did so.

At his direction, Mr Strange lay face-down upon the bed, a pillow under his abdomen. He seemed far less nervous than Mr Norrell had been during his first time, though the latter reflected that he had been facing having Childermass’s considerable length and girth inserted into him, and he had had every reason to be nervous. By comparison, Mr Strange had less to worry about, given that Mr Norrell, though not meagerly endowed, was a small man and thus his member was distinctly less problematic in such a situation than Childermass’s. Still, he vowed to himself to be very careful and make the experience as wonderful for his beloved Mr Strange as he possibly could.

Mr Norrell climbed onto the bed beside Mr Strange’s legs.

“Could you please move your legs apart slightly, Mr---um, Jonathan?”

Mr Strange did so, carefully, so that Mr Norrell could climb over to kneel between them.

“Fine, now, bend your knees just slightly.”

Once Mr Strange had done this, Mr Norrell had a splendid view of Mr Strange in his naked glory, spread out before him like a banquet. Well, not exactly like a banquet, he corrected himself, for surfeits of rich food tended to challenge his digestive system most unpleasantly. No, more like a simple, delicious meal with just enough wine accompanying it to make him slightly giddy. Certainly he felt that way now, surveying the long legs, firm, rounded bum, and powerful back—all topped off by the lovely, curly hair. 

He ran his fingertips up those shapely legs.

Mr Strange laughed. “That tickles!”

Mr Norrell pulled his hands away hurriedly, “Oh, I’m sorry, Jon-Jonathan!”

“No, no, in a pleasant way, that’s all.”

Reassured, Mr Norrell resumed his stroking and then unfolded his own legs, lying on his stomach so that he was facing directly into the cleft between Mr Strange’s buttocks and the dusky little depression that was his tight, puckered opening. He reached up to clutch and knead those shapely buttocks for a short time before pulling them apart to give himself greater access to his focus of concentration. After a moment of anticipation, he leaned in and licked Mr Strange’s entrance with the tip of his tongue. He began to flick the tip rapidly over the sensitive flesh, and Mr Strange gave a jerk.

“Gilbert. I … are you doing what I think you’re doing?” He pushed himself up on his elbows and looked around as best he could.

“Well, I’m beginning to prepare you. To loosen you so that I might enter you without difficulty.”

“Yes, but I had never realized that using one’s tongue was part of that process.”

“Oh, it isn’t a necessary part, no, but … well, I must admit that I myself find it very stimulating and very pleasant when done to me, and I hoped you might find it enjoyable.”

“Upon brief experience, I do indeed. I just was surprised that you would do such a thing. If you do not mind, though, please carry on. It is indeed _very_ pleasant!” Mr Strange settled back down.

Mr Norrell resumed, swirling his tongue repeatedly over the tiny entrance. Soon he used his thumbs to pull it slightly open, pressing the tip of his tongue inside and wiggling it. He continued pushing inward as he listened to Mr Strange’s sighs and low moans of enjoyment. Without pausing, he reached over Mr Strange’s thigh and fumbled for the jar of ointment. Finding it, he managed to open it before he withdrew his tongue, scooped up a dollop of the lubricant on his finger, and rubbed it onto the little hole.

“Try to relax, Mr Strange—or at least not to tighten up in response to my inserting my finger.”

Mr Strange tried to obey, though he gave a little grunt when Mr Norrell’s finger penetrated him. Mr Norrell paused and then pushed it slowly to its full length. Gradually he worked to open Mr Strange, eventually inserting a second finger as well. As he did so, he brushed against the pleasure point at the front of Mr Strange’s passage, and the man uttered a loud, startled moan.

“What was that, Gilbert?” he gasped.

Mr Norrell smiled. “Just a little spot inside that feels extraordinarily good when rubbed.”

“My Lord, it certainly does! More of that, please.”

For several minutes Mr Norrell gradually pulled and stretched the tight ring until he felt it give way at last. He rose and coated his cock liberally with the salve. “You would probably be better off if you were to rise to your hands and knees, J-Jonathan,” he said. 

Mr Strange did not question this but rose as directed. Mr Norrell put a pillow on the bed between the man’s legs and scooted his knees forward and up onto it. His cock was thus exactly placed to reach Mr Strange’s hole, which was gaping slightly. Cautiously he placed the tip against it and pushed. The end of his member popped inside, and he paused, rubbing his hands soothingly over Mr Strange’s back. 

He need not have worried, since Mr Strange was now in greater need of further progress than of soothing. He said eagerly, “Go ahead, Gilbert. I assure you, it does not hurt.”

With a series of short thrusts, Mr Norrell buried himself. He paused briefly, massaging Mr Strange’s cheeks. He had forgotten just how intensely wonderful this sensation could be. Mr Strange shifted slightly, pushing back against him, and he began to thrust in earnest.

Mr Strange gave a loud groan each time Mr Norrell’s cock passed over the little gland inside him, and Mr Norrell resisted the urge to ride him hard and fast to their mutual bliss. Instead he set a moderate pace, drawing out their pleasure as he listened to the moist, obscene sound of each thrust. He leaned his head slightly to the side and saw that Mr Strange’s hands were gripping the sheets tightly.

At last neither could fight their encroaching climaxes any longer, and Mr Norrell reached around to grasp his partner’s swelling length and pump it hard. Almost at once Mr Strange groaned hoarsely as spasms of ecstasy shook his body. His channel tightened and pulled at Mr Norrell, who allowed himself to slip effortlessly into his own fulfillment, loosing spurt after spurt of his seed inside Mr Strange.

For a moment they remained still, Mr Norrell leaning forward against Mr Strange as they panted. Then Mr Strange lowered himself rather hurriedly to lie once more on the bed. This dislodged Mr Norrell, who hastily reached for two of the cloths he had laid ready, putting one underneath Mr Strange’s cleft and using the other to wipe his own shrinking cock. He paused to watch as his seed dribbled out of Mr Strange and dropped onto the cloth, smiling at the thought that he had at last had amorous congress with the man he loved. Eventually he raised the cloth and carefully wiped Mr Strange clean.

He moved up to lie beside his new lover, whose face was turned away from him. Mr Norrell stroked the curly head. “Mr Str—that is, Jonathan, are you all right?”

Mr Strange turned his head to face him. His eyes looked slightly bleary, but he was smiling contentedly. “More than all right, Gilbert. I believe that I have never experienced it so intensely! What an extraordinary sensation, being pleasured both in front and behind!”

“I am so glad, Jonathan!” Mr Norrell hesitated. “Do you think you would prefer it this way rather than you buggering me?” He tried to use a light tone, as if he were merely asking something like “Do you prefer strawberries or raspberries?” He himself much preferred being buggered, but he was determined that he would be on top every single time if that was what his beloved Mr Str—that is, Jonathan, wanted. If there were to be any further times. His joy was slightly tempered at the thought.

Mr Strange groped for his hand and brought it up to his lips to kiss. “Well, I do not know yet. I would imagine that buggery is not … if you’ll pardon my mentioning it … not quite the same as, um, doing this with a woman.”

“I would suppose not. I have no way of knowing.”

“I have never buggered a woman. I do not believe they are particularly fond of that activity. I wonder if they have the same spot inside that is so very sensitive.”

“They do not. That is, I have no direct experience in such matters, but I have been told so by someone who knows far more than I.”

“Ah, I see.” Mr Strange looked thoughtful, and Mr Norrell wondered if he might suspect that the source of that knowledge had been Childermass, but he said nothing further except, “Well, I would be more than willing to try buggering you. Though … I fear that I might hurt you, being …”

“So very well-endowed, you mean, and indeed you are. But, well, to be frank, I have had long experience with accepting a similarly large member, and if you follow my instructions, I think there will be no difficulty.”

Mr Strange grinned. “Good!” His grin faded, and he pulled Mr Norrell closer. “Do you know, when I let you kiss me, I thought we would simply share a little pleasure. I was not sure that we would take it any further than that, but this has been more wonderful than I could have believed. You are not the dry, dull man that people take you for! I do not understand, though, what made you betray your desire for me? I thought we were just searching for a book. Not the most romantic of activities.”

Mr Norrell blushed. “No, indeed, but … well, you may not realize it, but you have a habit of pursing your lips when you concentrate deeply and, well, since I already found you so very attractive, that little gesture led me to think of … kissing.”

“Ah, yes! Arabella has teazed me about that habit once or twice. I never notice when I’m doing it, so I had no notion that I was provoking you in such a fashion. I would apologize, but—”

“Oh, not at all, Mr Strange! Things have turned out so well that I ….” 

He paused as he noticed that Mr Strange had pursed his lips. This time he was not frowning in concentration but had a most mischievous sparkle in his eyes. Mr Norrell moved nearer and pressed his mouth against those provocative lips. Soon they were wrapped tightly in each other’s arms, with the kiss going on and on. Not that it deepened. It was too soon for them to move on to another act of amorous congress. 

At last the kiss ended, and the two lay looking fondly and lazily into each other’s eyes. 

Mr Strange said, “I believe I shall have to conquer this habit of pursing my lips when I am seriously thinking about magic.”

“Oh, dear! Why, Mr … that is, Jonathan? It is such a charming habit.”

“Perhaps a bit too charming. I do believe you are such a randy fellow that we should get very little work done, and I do want someday to become the Second Greatest Magician in the land.”

Mr Norrell chuckled at this exaggerated but not wholly inaccurate assessment of his amorous capacities and said, “I believe that you are teazing me, Jonathan, and very pleasingly so. I would imagine, however, that if we perform acts of amorous congress on a regular basis, I shall not be so distracted by your beautifully pursed lips.”

“That,” replied Mr Strange, “sounds like a perfect arrangement!”


End file.
